First let me say thank you for an intelligent and absolutely magnificent
website. You hit the nail right on the head in your article Distilling
Big Band Guitar: The Essence of Freddie Green. Amazing though it may
seem to the unenlightened, and as you obviously well know, "All they want
to hear is the fourth string" as Bucky Pizzarelli would say. One note
on the fourth string is all the band needs to feel. Since it's probable
you've not heard of me before, let me introduce myself by saying that
I played acoustic rhythm guitar with Benny Goodman's last band, the Smithsonian
Jazz Masterworks (for 9 years), Carnegie Hall and Lincoln Center Jazz
Orchestras (with Benny Carter), and was also fortunate to have known and
played with Buck Clayton, Eddie Durham, Eddie Barefield, and Earle Warren.
I still get on the bandstand every now and then with Frank Wess' band.
All this is to say I know how to play guitar in a jazz ensemble. And after
reading your article, I know that so do you.

Just to expand upon some of the observations you've made: first, the
'one note chord' is no theory - it's how he played, period. I asked
Frank Wess a few years ago what it was like listening to Freddie's guitar
on those hundreds of gigs they played together and after a moment's
reflection he answered, "He was always playin' those little melodies." Of
course; he was playing a tenor line to the bass player's bass line.
Those two voices make explicit the entire underlying harmonic foundation.
And with a propulsion, a lightness, and a sense of direction that only
a linear concept (as opposed to a full chord/vertical) could possibly
provide. It gives the band both an unflagging rhythmic drive and, at
the same time, all the harmony a soloist needs to hear, without cluttering,
restricting, or weighing down the efforts of either.

At a slower or medium tempo Freddie would sometimes interject 'two or
three note chords' (played on the fourth and third strings, adding the
sixth string for full three note chords) in the line he was playing,
usually sustaining those 'chords' a bit longer than his normal rhythm
stroke. (Eddie Durham, who was not one to exaggerate or overstate, did
tell me on one occasion that he initially told Freddie to relax
the left hand on each beat.) Freddie's very discriminating use of sustaining
certain of these one, two and three note 'chords' in a phrase helped
keep the beat from becoming overbearing, while continually propelling
it forward in a way that is never entirely predictable. Listen to him
on "Rhythm
Willie", the Concord small group album he did with Herb Ellis. These
techniques not only momentarily fill out the sonority of the rhythm
section, but also contrast with his normal approach, making the return
to the 'one note chord' sound fresh again to the ear. This subtle variation
of density is the same concept applied to rhythm guitar playing that
a good composer/arranger will utilize on a larger scale throughout the
course of a piece. Can you imagine a band (or orchestra) playing everything
in unison and staccato all the time? Aural fatigue will invariably set
in. But again, the tempo is the determinant for all this subtlety -
the faster the tempo, the more the concentration upon a strong single
note line.

All of what you say regarding the proper set up (heavy gauge bronze
strings, high action, a heavy pick) is right on the mark. The couple
of things I haven't seen referenced in talking about Freddie's playing
(in addition to the above-mentioned use of held chords) are: the infinite
variations in weight he would apply to beats two and four - from a hard
backbeat to a smoother, almost even four - and the contribution of the
right hand index fingernail (just a bit of the upper/right quadrant of
the nail, as you look at the back of the hand with the fingers pointing
up) towards the quality of his sound. The particular feel of the piece,
as in whether the composer/arranger called for the bass to play in '2'
or '4', coupled with the rhythmic figures and dynamic level of the band,
provided Freddie all the information he needed to determine how heavy
a stroke to apply on the backbeats of each measure. Listen to his playing
on Shiny Stockings, particularly as the band alternates between '4'
and '2'. His instincts and impeccable time and taste lend an utterly
unique conception and groove to every beat played. And the inclusion
of some of the afore mentioned fingernail gliding across the strings
together with the pick, gave a depth, a roundness and fullness to the
sound of his guitar, that the pick alone can't do. Try it. Bucky Pizzarelli
will tell you the same thing; you've got to get a little fingernail
in your stroke to get a good Freddie Green rhythm sound.

As I've tried to focus in this letter on facets of Freddie's style I've
discovered over the years, and as I'd be willing to bet he didn't concern
himself with mics or amplification at the jobs he performed, I'll save
my own comments and opinions regarding the effects of electronics on
both rhythm playing and jazz ensembles for another time (read "don't
get me started"). Maybe I'll also delve into the acoustics of why the
fourth string, from approximately the third to twelfth frets, is the
string of choice for rhythm playing and, if you like, how I feel it's
best to practice playing time.

One final thought. If either of us had had the opportunity to ask Freddie
Green himself, and given that he was in a talkative mood, would he have
answered in the same terms that we have been using to describe his style
of rhythm playing? I doubt it. Was he aware of all the subtle and marvelous
techniques and concepts he applied each and every time he picked up his
guitar? You bet your a--. Maybe not in those terms, but he was sensitive
to sound and developed, intuitively and through trial and error, an unerring
musical sense and feeling to which we can only aspire. And that's what
playing music is all about - at least it is to me - the feeling.